


Expectation versus reality

by ScriptaManent



Series: IwaOi Week 2020 [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Breakfast, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff without Plot, IwaOi Week, IwaOi Week 2020 (Haikyuu!!), M/M, Oikawa shouldn't be allowed in the kitchen and here's why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27864718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptaManent/pseuds/ScriptaManent
Summary: Moving in with his best friend had probably been one of the best decisions Iwaizumi had taken in his life, but if he had been prepared for some aspects of it, there were always surprises waiting for him.IwaOi Week 2020, Day 3: Established relationship + Cooking/baking
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: IwaOi Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036209
Comments: 4
Kudos: 86
Collections: IwaOi Week 2020





	Expectation versus reality

There was one thing about moving in with his best friend that Iwaizumi had never expected, in all honesty, and it wasn’t the fact that they would end up dating in the following months — no, this one he had seen coming from miles away, everybody had.

What he hadn’t expected was how natural of a process it would be, and how peaceful the domesticity of living with Oikawa really was.

Iwaizumi had known him for his whole life. He had been prepared for the chaos, for the nights where he would have to drag Oikawa to bed, and for the ones he would find him staring at the TV screen, his face closed and unreadable. He had braced himself for the pranks and the annoying moments when Oikawa would require his whole attention even though Iwaizumi was supposed to work on an assignment due in a few days only.

But whenever he made his way to the kitchen in the morning, his mind still dazed from the dream he was barely out of, there was never a single day when Iwaizumi didn’t stop breathing at the sight of his boyfriend. Who could blame him, though? Waking up to that man wasn’t as bad as he had said it would be when he had teased Oikawa, a lifetime ago.

It really wasn’t. Not when he could stop in the doorframe and watch him without fearing that Oikawa would use it to make fun of him. Not when the light filtered through the window, bathing the other in a golden light that made his skin glow and his hair sparkle like it was made of copper and bronze. Not when Oikawa hummed to himself to a tune from years ago that only he remembered.

Most of the time, Iwaizumi wasn’t quite sure that he was really awake. The scene looked so surreal. There was no way this man was his best friend, and there was absolutely no way that he was his boyfriend.

“You should take a picture, Iwa-chan, it’d last longer. Besides, I’m sure the light is really flattering right now,” Oikawa lilted without turning back.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes — scratch that previous thought, this  _ was _ his boyfriend, unfortunately — and eventually moved from the spot where he had started to take roots.

“Your ugly face would make my phone crash,” he said without heat, walking to the other to bump his shoulder.

“Out of the bed and you’re already mean,” Oikawa countered in a whiny voice.

He glanced at his boyfriend, chuckling when Iwaizumi melted against him and threatened to fall back asleep right there. His mood was too light to leave room for real banter.

He pulled Iwaizumi closer to press a kiss to his temple and the latter grunted at the gesture. It was all an act, though and on such a lovely morning, a comforting warmth spread through Iwaizumi’s chest at the sound of the setter’s genuine laugh.

Oikawa resumed the task at hand — baking another batch of his experimental pancakes, apparently — but Iwaizumi didn’t pull away. Instead, he let his head gently rest against the other’s, absorbing his comforting and familiar warmth like a plant blooming at dawn. There was no thought going through his mind. The only thing he was aware of was the rhythm of his heart beating in his chest and the sound of his own breathing in the relative silence.

The setter worked methodically, grabbing the ingredients with his opposite hand to make sure not to dislodge Iwaizumi and asking him whenever there was something out of reach. He poured some more flour in his preparation, blowing a cloud on the countertop, and glanced at Iwaizumi’s sleepy form against him.

He nuzzled his cheek against his boyfriend’s hair; another laugh escaped his lips when the other let out a sleepy groan — and Iwaizumi would have gladly gotten drunk on the sound of this laugh. It was a genuine one, one that was his, mostly.

“We’re tired, today, aren’t we?” the setter teased again.

Iwaizumi flicked him a glare. He considered moving away, just out of spite and habit, but he would have hated the uncomfortable feeling that would have ensued.

“Shut up,” he said instead, just for good measure. “What are you making, anyway?”

“Pancakes.”

“I can see that, but that doesn’t explain the soy sauce.”

There was a short pause, but it was ominous enough to draw all of Iwaizumi’s attention to him. All the muscles in Oikawa’s shoulders tensed and the other straightened up slowly to stare at his boyfriend, his frown drawing familiar lines on his forehead.

“What did you think it was?”

Oikawa lifted his chin, his jaws clenching in a mask of pride that Iwaizumi was quick to wipe off his face. He poked him between the ribs and Oikawa yelped like a child, covering his sides protectively and moving out of the other’s reach, a characteristic pout on his face.

“It’s part of the recipe, Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi glanced at the mixture and scrunched his nose.

“Don’t mess with me so early in the morning, Trashykawa. What did you think it was?” he repeated as he took hold of the whisk and stirred the suspiciously brown batter.

How the hell hadn’t Oikawa smelt that it was  _ soy sauce _ ?!

“I’m not eating that,” Iwaizumi declared, just at the same time as Oikawa miserably admitted “Vanilla extract.”

They stared at each other in silence before Oikawa frowned, mirroring Iwaizumi’s expression with the addition of a childish pout.

“In my defense, the bottles look the same!”

“How did you even—” Iwaizumi started incredulously, pointing at the liquid as if it were the key evidence in a trial.

“I just wanted to bake something nice for you!” Oikawa cut him off, waving a hand at the monstrosity and glaring at the batter like it was its own fault.

His shoulders dropped and he let out a weary sigh, sending a sheepish and upset look at the other.

“How was I supposed to know there’s no vanilla in this house?” he mumbled again, unaware of the sudden stiffness of Iwaizumi’s stance.

He kept on rambling as he got rid of the foul mixture and dropped everything in the sink. It was only when Iwaizumi’s hand brushed his arm that Oikawa eventually stopped speaking. He turned an offended expression at his boyfriend but he didn’t object when Iwaizumi took the bowl from him and put it under running water.

“You know you’ve never once managed to follow a recipe, dumbass,” the latter declared without looking at his partner, the softness in his voice unexpected. “Wait for me, next time.”

“That kinda ruins the purpose of  _ baking for you _ , Iwa-chan,” Oikawa pointed out, resting his back against the piece of furniture beside him and crossing his arms over his chest.

“That also means we’re not going to die of food poisoning,” Iwaizumi countered, arching an eyebrow at the other.

He cracked a smile in front of Oikawa’s falsely hurt glare.

“Come on, get clean dishes, these ones are gonna smell of soy sauce for the next three days, thanks to you.”

Oikawa’s expression switched to extreme suspicion. He narrowed his eyes, waiting for Iwaizumi to add something and make a fool out of his boyfriend, but the silence only stretched between them.

“You’re not gonna expose me to Makki and Mattsun?” Oikawa asked carefully when it lasted too long.

Suddenly, the phone in Iwaizumi’s pocket grew heavier, but he pushed the temptation aside.

“Not if we survive that next meal. Come on, get moving before I change my mind.”

The other studied him a few seconds longer before he got another bowl from a cupboard under Iwaizumi’s amused gaze.

“I like it better when you’re sleepy,” Oikawa grumbled under his breath.

Iwaizumi gave a light kick to his shin.

“And I like it better when you’re not about to kill me,” he retorted, indifferent to the other’s protestations.

There was something oddly intimate in being a witness to such a casual moment. Oikawa gathered the ingredients again, his focus and annoyance at himself written both on his features and in the way he stood. He cracked the first egg with a bit too much strength and cursed as he tried to get the shell out of the bowl and failed miserably — Iwaizumi watched without offering help.

He waited for Oikawa to dry his hands on the towel. Then, Iwaizumi stepped forward and slipped his hands around the other’s waist, the grin not making it past his lips until there was a blush on Oikawa’s cheeks.

“Iwa-chan, you’re smiling. It’s scary,” Oikawa said, letting out a cry when Iwaizumi pinched the skin of his back.

“Would you rather have me throw stuff at you? ‘cause I can definitely do that,” he replied, feigning to pull away.

“You wish.”

A smug smirk settled on his lips when Oikawa held him tighter.

Iwaizumi had been prepared for the utter chaos and the banter that went with living with Oikawa. Reality had proved him right, of course, but it had also brought something more into his life, a state of peacefulness — blissfulness — he wasn’t sure was comparable to any other.

He pressed a kiss to Oikawa’s collarbone, smiling against his skin when the other tightened their embrace.


End file.
